The Real Monster of Hogwarts
by aaliona
Summary: "The first rule of pranking at Hogwarts was to never pull a prank that would cause permanent damage. The second was not to do it right in front of Filch or McGonagall. The third was not to do anything that would sic a large group of furious girls after them. The fourth was the most important of all. It was not to alert prefects of their plans."


**Hello. For the October Monthly Challenge at the Twin Exchange, I received the title "The Real Monster of Hogwarts," as submitted by kaykay1307. You'll figure it out halfway through, but I'll just tell you now that it's set in Harry's fifth year. I hope you enjoy it.**

Fred and George knew that certain rules applied to pranking at Hogwarts.

The first rule was to never pull a prank that would cause permanent damage. The second was not to do it right in front of Filch or McGonagall. The third was not to do anything that would sic a large group of furious girls after them. The fourth was the most important of all. It was not to alert prefects of their plans.

"Don't you dare tell Ron," Fred snapped in George's ear as he pulled his twin to his feet and dragged him away from their youngest brother. "We can't afford to alert authority now."

"Relax, he's a prefect but not a very good one." George rolled his eyes as they sat down to eat several people down from Ron.

"I don't care," Fred replied. "He's friends with Hermione, and she is a good one."

"I'm a good what?"

Fred turned red as he suddenly became aware of the figure sitting next to them. He looked over to find her arms crossed with a look of determination on her face. As panicked half-baked excuses flew around his head, George came to the rescue.

"We were just discussing which of the prefects would be the most fun to have detention with if Professor McGonagall really does start having them supervise instead of teachers."

"And?"

Fred quickly took over by offering her a winning smile. "Why, you would be, of course. Perhaps a detention served copying lines or organizing books in the library. And you'd be there with your fizzy little head done up in a bun and a tight little skirt." He winked at George. "I really think she should wear glasses too. You know, just to fit the librarian thing."

WOMP.

Fred rubbed the back of his head where he'd been smacked with a book. "We were only joking. That hurt."

"Good," she replied before standing. "By the way, no talking in the library."

Fred's mouth fell open as he looked at his twin, whose mouth hung at a similar distance. "Hermione Granger just teased pranksters?"

George shook his head. "What is this world coming to?"

…

Professor McGonagall frowned. "You have exactly twenty seconds to explain."

Fred and George shared a glance before George said, "As a first year, you have broom lessons."

"But if you aren't from a wizard family, that's all the flying you usually get," Fred continued. "Many muggleborn students give up on flying as soon as they start."

"Quidditch is even worse because if they can't fly, they don't always learn the game."

"Even if they know the rules, they only somewhat pay attention."

George grinned. "It would be great to give some of them another shot at learning the wonders of flying."

She sighed, closing her eyes. "I am probably going to regret this, but if you properly arrange a sign-up, I will allow it." McGonagall glared sternly. "There had better be proper safety precautions in place."

As their professor forcefully shut her office door in their faces, Fred and George grinned at each other. "We're going to be killed for this," Fred said so quietly that George could hardly hear.

His twin grinned. "Of course, that will be the best part."

With a shared chuckled, the two started down the corridor towards the Gryffindor common room. They had a few signs to put up and people to convince.

…

Hermione took a shaky breath and shook her head rapidly. "I think I've changed my mind about this."

Angelina laughed. "You can't give up now. Think about how many nerdy little second and third years are looking up to you for this."

With a gulp, Hermione replied, "That's what I'm afraid of."

"You'll be fine," Katie insisted as she pushed Hermione from behind. "Just think about all the positive our house is getting, especially since we can't have normal Quidditch right now." Before Hermione could protest again, both girls shoved her through the locker room doors onto the pitch.

Hermione had spent many Saturday afternoons watching Quidditch games and even more evenings watched the Gryffindor team practice. Despite what Harry and Ron thought, she fully understood how the game worked and had, in the past, occasionally accompanied Ginny to non-Gryffindor games since her boys cared more about playing than watching other houses compete. All of that boded just fine with Hermione as long as she never had to fly.

For that reason, she felt nothing but dread as she walked onto the field from the changing room for the very first time.

"Relax," Angelina said with another chuckle.

"I can't," Hermione grumbled as other girls milled out behind them. Homework had been done in the creation of this event, and students from all four houses were present, albeit with only a few representatives from Slytherin.

As students gathered in a semicircle in the center of the pitch, Hermione snuck a glance into the stands. She had suspected they would be packed, but thankfully a rule had been made to keep anyone not participating out. Knowing that she would fall quite frequently, Hermione noted where all the teachers were sitting, obviously exempt to the spectator rule. Surprisingly few of them were there. She saw only Professors McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Flitwick in the teachers' section while Umbridge sat alone a few rows over.

"Can I have your attention?" one of the twins hollered from the front of the semicircle.

The other shook his head and pointed his wand at his neck. "Oi!" he yelled, his voice magnified to the point that everyone flinched.

As he fiddled to fix his volume issue, his twin followed suit. "Hello," he said. "In case you're daft and don't know, my name's Fred and this is George."

"We're kind of a big deal."

She knew better than to laugh at such a corny joke, but Hermione chuckled along with everyone else.

We hope you folks are ready to have a bit of fun." They both grinned. George turned around and _accio_'d some broomsticks from where they lay in the center of the pitch while Fred continued, "To start us off, we're going to have a few of demonstrators fly."

Hermione gulped as the three Quidditch girls gently pushed her forward. Since George no longer had his voice magnified, Fred added, "Mostly, they'll be Gryffindor Quidditch players since we're hosting this little shindig. We'll also have older students riding with to demonstrate what some of you younger students might want to do once we get started.

Harry met her in the middle after grabbing his broom from George. Although she was thankful that she got to go with someone she felt comfortable with, Harry's broom wasn't exactly slow.

As though reading her mind, he promised, "We won't go that fast."

"Thanks," she said and sucked in a large gulp of air as she mounted the broom behind him.

Harry kicked off, and Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. After about thirty seconds in the air, she opened them to find that they thankfully weren't up very high. She looked about to see who else was in the air. Neville Longbottom, no better with a broom than Hermione, rode with Angelina. Other than him, it was all Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff seventh years, including Katie's new boyfriend.

After about five minutes, George's voice echoed around the field. "That's some expert flying, guys. Feel free to come down now."

As they landed, Hermione realized who was missing. "Where's Ron?" she asked.

"Snape's making him serve detention today," Harry replied. He glanced up in the stands and scowled. "Speaking of which, I've got to go. Umbridge is making me do lines today, but I convinced her that this is a service to the school so she'd let me be here for part of it."

Hermione followed Harry's gaze and saw Umbridge standing and tapping the back of her hand with her wand. "You shouldn't have to do this," Hermione said with a grimace.

"But I do," he said quietly and handed her his broom. "You can use this if you like."

The sound of her heartbeat suddenly flooded into her ears. "You want me to use the _fastest broom in the world_? What happens if it floats off?"

Harry shook his head and replied, "It won't. Fred and George put up protection charms. The broom won't go anywhere if you fall."

"That's reassuring," she muttered as he walked off.

Fred walked by her as he handed out brooms. When he saw the Firebolt, he started laughing.

"Something funny?" she snapped.

"I'm just picturing you if that broom ends up giving its all." He chuckled again. "It should be worth this day."

Hermione huffed before walking over to Angelina. "Do I have to do this?"

The sixth year sighed. "You are exactly the reason Fred and George are doing this."

"What do you mean by that?" Hermione asked, fighting the urge to get angry.

"You never gave flying a chance. You just assumed it wasn't for you and flew as little as possible first year."

"Fine," she replied, not wanting to look so predictable. "I'll go back up."

Angelina grinned. "I knew you would."

When the time came for everyone to kick off, Fred and George gave very specific directions.

"Fourth through seventh years who feel confident enough to go without instructions can take off now," Fred said.

George continued, "The rest of you stay here until they're up. The other Quidditch players and us will give a quick brush up on how to kick off, steer, and the like."

Although Hermione wanted to stay on the ground, Fred, Ron, and Harry had all made sure she could manage a broom on her own (in theory because she'd refused to get on one until today) when she had agreed to participate.

As her feet left the ground, Hermione sucked in a breath, but she knew better than to close her eyes this time around. A few seconds later she let out the breath since she felt somewhat certain that the broom would not plunge to the ground. She hovered about ten feet off the ground. A tingling sensation ran through her, and Hermione rose higher as she realized that she had been level with the protection field.

Eventually she experimented with steering and floated about in figure eights that slowly rose higher. Hermione became more and more aware of the flyers around her as others rose from the ground. She felt pretty good about her flying until a second year zoomed too quickly too close in front of her. It startled her so much that she yanked up on the handle, sending the broom twirling and forcing her off.

It was hard to tell as she fell, but Hermione didn't think afterwards that she screamed. She moved too fast for that.

THUD.

As suddenly as she'd fallen, Hermione landed on the protection field. To break her fall, it sunk some and absorbed the force. Even with those safety features, Hermione felt like she had been slammed into a wall, although her body didn't have the same results. She chose to lie there unmoving until she had her breath back.

"Are you all right?" Fred asked as his broom came to a stop next to her. The protection field tingled again as he flew into it, but Hermione stayed firmly on top.

"I'm- I'll be fine," she replied once her voice returned.

He nodded in relief and looked up at the gathering crowd. "Hermione Granger has graciously demonstrated our safety features. There is a field down here to stop your fall and another up top to save a wandering broom."

Hermione looked up, and sure enough, her broom waited directly above her at the top of the pitch.

"You can go back to flying," George said to the crowd as he buzzed around. "All right?" he added in Hermione's direction.

"Never better," she replied weakly. Just the thought of what could have happened without the field had left her with a cold sweat on the back of her neck. She wiped it away and rubbed her forehead for good measure. It suddenly occurred to her that her hand was bare. "Where's my mitten?" she asked looking at the protection field and the ground below. "It just disappeared."

"Are you sure you had them on?" Fred asked as he looked the other way.

"Yes." Hermione waved her left hand. "The other one is still on."

"It must have fallen off when you fell," he replied, again not looking at her.

Hermione frowned. "I didn't think I hit that hard." She sighed and added, "I suppose that means I need to go down and get it."

Fred finally looked at her, his eyes oddly wide. "It's not worth it, is it? I'd just take off the other one and find it later."

"I suppose," she agreed as George appeared with her broom.

"Here you go," he said.

Hermione took the broom and cautiously stood up on the protection field. It didn't drop her, so she threw a leg back over the broom.

After she kicked off, Fred turned to his twin. "We have a problem."

"What?" George positioned himself a few feet above the protection field and slid off his broom. Since he was no longer touching it, the field let him land. Still on his feet, George _accio_'d his broom back.

Fred did the same before replying, "The field took Hermione's mitten."

George blinked in surprise. "How did it do that? I thought we had it rigged not to do anything until we gave the command."

Fred shrugged. "I dunno. I thought we had it all figured out too."

We'd better start it quick then in case it happens when the next person falls."

George, after checking that none of the professors were looking, pointed his wand at the sky and let off a few red sparks. About thirty seconds later a green set answered back.

The twins grinned at each other as Fred said, "Lee's ready."

They separated and continued to fly around while calling out encouragement to those on brooms. George saw Angelina down on the ground with a crying second year Hufflepuff, so he flew down to them. Together the seventh years convinced her that flying wasn't too scary. "Why don't you stay here for a while, and Angelina can come back for you soon?" he suggested. His friend shot him a look immediately at being declared babysitter. He didn't care, though. They were running out of time now that Lee was ready. Thankfully the second year loved the idea, and Angelina got up in the air.

George followed her up and met Fred at the middle of the pitch.

Suddenly a large roar ripped through the air, causing a couple people to nearly fall off their brooms. Fred and George shared a small grin before a large, hairy creature ripped through the main entrance wall.

"It's the monster of Hogwarts," Fred cried.

"What monster?" several students yelled, and Fred distinctly heard Hermione say, "That was a basilisk! It's dead!"

"Older students stay to fight it," George commanded. "Younger students might want to get out of the air."

Fred saw the three professors stand and figured they had to act fast. As soon as all of the younger students and most of the fourth years were below the protection field, he nodded to George. The two took off in opposite directions with their wands out, Fred heading up and George down.

They timed it perfectly, and their wand tips hit the protection fields at the exact same time. Instantly the monster turned to confetti, which swirled around the pitch like a snow storm. Several seconds passed before one of the older girls screamed. Soon others joined her as they realized that everyone within the fields had been magically stripped down to their undergarments.

Fred's eyes flitted around the group, skipping over people like Angelina (who he'd seen before accidentally after walking in on her and George), lingering on girls like Verity (because he couldn't help himself), and stopping on Hermione.

She seemed frozen after realizing she wore nothing but black nickers and a red bra. Fred almost laughed as he realized it was Gryffindor red, but his attention quickly redirected to the skin around it. Her skin was pale, although that didn't surprise him since she spent most of her time indoors. What pleasantly surprised him was her stomach. It appeared to be as flat as the Quidditch-playing girls. Coupled with her legs, Fred believed she could have been an athlete had she wanted to.

When Hermione caught his eye, she glared and turned her back to him as a shield, although it allowed him to momentarily appreciate the nearly bare skin.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY!"

He flinched and slowly rotated around to face McGonagall where she stood with her hands on her hips. As he slowly sunk down to be level with her, Fred gave a quick thanks that he and George had arranged the borders of their spell so carefully. They'd kept it from the stands because they'd be punished worse for stripping teachers and because they feared for their eyes.

"You will end this madness this instant," she hissed, anger flaring in her eyes.

"I suggest you listen to Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore said. Fred glanced at him and saw none of the usually kindness in his eyes.

He gulped and raised his wand. Together he and George removed the top safety field. Immediately the clothing returned.

"It was only a large scale disillusion charm," George said tentatively, but another glare from McGonagall quickly shut him up.

…

"I still say it wasn't worth all this," George muttered as they walked back up from the Pitch the following Saturday. They and Lee had spent the whole day helping to rebuild the wall their monster had knocked down.

Fred nodded. "It's up for debate." Along with rebuilding, the three had to clean fifty-two rooms – one for each of the students they'd de-clothed, counting the twins.

Once they were in the classroom of the night, they sat for ten minutes before McGonagall walked in with a Ravenclaw seventh year. "Mister Jordan, you may go to room number 613 and you, Fred Weasley, to 420 for tonight. Since you have done two rooms this week, we are breaking you up to do them on your own. Mister Lee, you must do six more because you were not in the pitch at the time of the incident. You two will do seven.

"There will be a detention advisor for each of you other than myself. Sometimes you will have the advisor, others a professor. Whoever is with you for the night will decide when the room has been properly cleaned. You two may go." She motioned to Lee and Fred, who left as she said to George, "Miss Clark is taking important time out of her schedule. Do not think you will get anything passed her."

Fred slowly made his way to room 420 with dread in his stomach. He could practically taste his lunch (they had worked through supper) as he wondered what workaholic, knit-picky advisor McGonagall could have chosen.

He knew he should be thankful that she hadn't let Umbridge take over their punishment, but cleaning was a terrible chore even with magic. He hated it without.

When Fred saw who his advisor was, he didn't know whether to be thankful or scared beyond belief. She leaned against the desk, glaring at him. "I'm assuming you know what you have to do," she said coldly.

Fred nodded without speaking and grabbed the cloth to wash off the desks.

Those were the first words Hermione had said to either twin in a week. Ron had informed him that she was still spitting mad about the prank and also said that they deserved her anger. Fred had ignored the last part, but it was clearly from her face that he would receive it. He couldn't believe she could be so steely. When Fred spoke to her – which he tried to do several times that night – Hermione always snapped at him to work and not talk.

"What can I do?" he asked George as he flopped onto his bed hours later. "She's like this stone statue, except she's a hundred times colder."

George snorted. "You're the one who has to deal with it, not me. I swear my advisor wants to shag me. She's nice enough, I suppose, but I certainly wouldn't give up Angelina for her."

Fred sighed and rolled over. "You're terrible help."

"And you're terrible at explanations."

Although he heard his twin loud and clear, Fred chose not to reply. He didn't want to.

…

"We'll be in room 247 tonight," Hermione said as she walked past him at dinner.

Fred groaned, letting his head fall in his hands. She hadn't so much as looked at him when she spoke. That had to be a sign that tonight would not go well.

Still, he knew it would not go over well to be late, so Fred arrived ten minutes before seven. He then had to wait fifteen minutes before Hermione walked in five minutes late.

She scowled when she saw him. "You know what to clean, and the supplies are already here. Why didn't you start?"

Fred took a deep breath before letting out a rush of words. "You don't need to be so cold because of one little prank. Nobody got hurt."

He'd known better to say it and had done so anyway. Immediately he wished to take the words back as her eyes narrowed to cat-like slits. "Nobody got hurt," she repeated, her voice tight. "Nobody? Not the younger students who were scarred? Not the other girls and I you embarrassed? Not the flyers who can't go out on the pitch until you finish rebuilding it? Let me hear you say again, 'Nobody got hurt.'"

He gulped. "I'm sorry."

"Not accepted." She whirled around before adding, "You may have called that thing the monster of Hogwarts, but _you're_ the real monster of Hogwarts, you and George both."

"I did it for you."

Hermione froze before slowly revolving around to face him. "Don't make up excuses," she said quietly.

"I'm not," he replied, looking at the ground. "I just wanted to see you in your knickers, but I bloody couldn't tell you that, now could I?" He glanced back up, fighting a smile at the array of emotions that passed over her face.

She glared and finally replied, "Yes, you could have. You could have saved us both a lot of trouble."

Prepared for her to start screaming, Fred jerked his head up. "What? Are you saying I can have the chance again?"

Hermione pursed her lips and glanced at the door to check that it was tightly shut. "I suppose it could be arranged." She took a large breath before adding, "You didn't look half bad out on the pitch.

He could feel himself grinning like an idiot, but Fred really didn't care. "That's great," he blurted out, not prepared to filter his thoughts.

Thankfully she interrupted before he could say anything else. "You'll have to finish up detention first," she said slyly. "And just to make sure you don't try and pull anything before then, I'm asking McGonagall to switch me with Margret Clark. I doubt there will be a problem between George and me."

This was a test, he realized. That Clark girl was a huge flirt, from what George had said, and she wanted to say she'd snogged a Weasley twin. That didn't matter; Fred thought himself more than capable of resisting.

"It won't be a problem at all," he promised.

Despite what she had just said, Hermione smiled and stepped towards him. She gave him a quick kiss before saying, "That rule starts tomorrow."


End file.
